Twilight Sagas: Alice's Story
by Treemo
Summary: In the town of Biloxi, Mississippi, a girl named Mary Alice Brandon lives a charmed life. Though she fills empty, as though she is missing something entirely. On one fateful night, the test of time brings her face to face with her demons; love. Her death.
1. Preface

Preface

The fate of a vampire was never a chosen path. A path of blood and insanity. But merely a path of love. Where I squandered away my life for the one I could never live without.

As his teeth grazed the punctuations of my neck, I felt the blood rage under my skin. And slowly, everything began to burn...

_For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings, That then I scorn to change my state with kings. _

-- William Shakespeare


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

The two pillars rose above the rest of the town. A church. Bells ringing from the top; yelping open to the new sprawling morning. Towering over toward the ocean that spread out near the edge of the small city. Blue streaks lay. While the orange hue dashes over the side of my room. I knew it was time to wake up.

Reluctantly, I pulled myself from the covers. Smile widening the length of my cheeks while I stared out the window and what was left behind. And in that instant, I bolted toward the door. Everyone in the house looked me as though I were insane or gone mad. But the pristine coat of snow that grazed the ground of our fair town of Biloxi, Mississippi. This was definitely not normal; the temperature, the snow in fact. Though we were in the middle of the coldest season of winter. I didn't question it what so ever.

"Mary, Mary, what has gotten into you--" Trailing behind, my sister, Cynthia, was just as breathless as I was as she saw the flakes shimmer down from the closing clouds.

Mother and Father were right behind her. I went over to Father's arm like a toddler, smiling up at him, and holding my palm out to catch the falling snow. It evaporated quickly; all too soon even. But that was alright. At least I had the opportunity to enjoy it for a while.

Hustling back inside, Mother prepared breakfast for us, while Father worked with winter equipment he hadn't used since we lived in the north. It all felt like old times and I was sincerely thankful for it.

But it was time for business.

Cynthia and I sat at the opposite ends of the table, placing pouches of change and dollars out across the cinder wood. While Mother greased the pan. And Father carried the salt out to the driveway.

"How much?" Cynthia asked, pulling her luscious brown hair into a bun with her favorite gold scrunchie. Her boyfriend, Todd, gave it to her as her second year anniversary. I told her many times that he was a keeper, but she refused marriage until after she received her education. Though our Father was all for two more housewives.

"A few dollars, definitely not enough for a trip," I said with solemness.

Father entered the room. "Trip?"

Father, well known as Mr. Brandon, accountant genius, he was much more than just a work-a-holic. Brute in mass, Father was a spitting image of grandpa, who passed away last year. He didn't seem all that broken up about it, so I assumed that they weren't all that close. But what Father and son were that close now a days? I mean, Todd is a mechanic, who lives alone and works for his own stability. But of course my Father doesn't see Todd as a beneficial factor for Cynthia. And he clearly ignores the fact that they are both in love. Head over heels. I wish I had anything close to that...

"Yes, Father, to that new Marketplace up on Grover," Cynthia smiled pleasantly, as I shifted the money around my fingers; hoping that somehow it would multiply.

"A new one? Don't you girls already have enough cloths?" He kissed Mother on her cheek and did the same with the both of us.

"No!" We both said in simultaneously, then laughed on the same beat.

I loved my sister dearly; loved her more than anything. We were just alike. Long brown hair, tanned complexion and a witty personality when having to do with shopping. But Father never saw the appeal. Even when we tried so hard to help him dress properly. He never wanted the help.

"Breakfast's ready," Mother moved the plates of sausages, pancakes, and eggs over to the table.

Silence laced over as Mother served each one of us; her kindness was sometimes intimidating, that that much good belonged to one person was unfathomable. Mother was always on our side; we all resembled just the same.

"Ain't that snow some type of miracle," I picked at pancakes that sat on the plate, while Father bent over, his elbows on the sides of the table.

"Freaky even," Mother commented.

I smiled.

"That's not proper educate, Daddy," He looked up from his meal. "Elbows up."

Following through on his instincts, he devoured the food within the time it took me to finish the pancakes. Mother smiled lovingly at him. Perfectly, they were a match made in heaven. Although my Father had many flaws—many of them—she looked pass those to see what an incredible person he really is. And I could understand that. Love was such a rarity to find all itself, but within my family it seemed more of a tradition. Though I was still waiting for the perfect man to sweep me off my feet. I was asking for much. Just a love half as wonderful as the love my Mother and Father share or Todd and Cynthia share would suffice.

There was a knock at the door.

I went over to get it. And as I jerked the door open, I found a man; large and thin with flowers. Snow gusting in behind him. It was Todd.

"Come in," I told, closing the door after him. "So what's the flowers for?"

Todd leaned over to make sure no one was listening. Or ease-dropping. Then he pulled a dark box out from his back pocket. And a diamond, maybe a karrot or two, shimmered off in front of me.

"Oh my gosh!" I squealed, but then tried to calm myself down. "Alright, alright. Stay right here."

"Mary," He tugged my arm as I was about to leave.

"Yea?"

"Do I have your blessing? Because I know you and Cynthia are really close, so I just wanted to make sure..."

I pulled into him, squeezing as tight as possible. The happiness overflowed me. "Of course you do. But...my Father, that will be a little challenge. But I approve fully."

"Cynthia?" I hollered from the living room.

And the rest of the morning went accordingly. Cythnia crying of joy and my Father interrogating Todd. But then finally letting him take his daughter, knowing that deep down that Todd was an amazing guy. My Mother cried too. I cried a little. It was all too beautiful, but I couldn't hide the fact that I was very envious of Cynthia.

I wonder when my Prince charming will arrive...

Later that day, Cynthia and I went out over to Grover to the marketplace. Father told us that for the special occasion that it was primary to pick up some pre-marital gifts. I could just tell that he was overjoyed with the engagement that he gave us the money for the trip. Either way, I was beaming.

"Mary?" Cynthia asked, while I was lost in my happiness.

I turned. "Huh?"

"Do you think this is a good idea?" She was admiring the ring that graced her finger.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

Cynthia scoffed. "The wedding. Todd?"

I snickered before I took the opportunity to answer. "Honestly, yes I do think its a good idea. And please do not tell me you are already having cold feet."

"No, just a thought," Cynthia went back to looking at her hand. "I mean, I told him that I didn't want to get married until after I finished school."

"He said he'll wait until then," I told, pulling my sister into a half embrace.

"Alright," She agreed, letting the topic drop. But something told me that it wasn't going to stay as such.

When we had finished our shopping; Cynthia with a flowery dress that looked amazing on her and a pink dress for myself, I was satisfied with our findings. Mr. Robins, the dress shop's owner--a sweet old man living hard and honestly--escorted us out that night, seeing how we had lost track of time. He offered to drive us home, but Cynthia wanted to meet Todd over at the library--he agreed to quiz her on the notes of her final. About phychological warefare and what not, it was her own ambition, her own topic to analyze a certain topic and give reasonable explanations and causes. Cynthia's ambitions stund me...

"I don't anything happenning to my two favorite customers," Mr. Robins told us, as he loaded his brief case in his bag, then politely kissed both our hands. Chilvary wasn't dead. Far from it.

"Goodbye, Mr. Robins." We waved...

On the way home, there was a full moon out. And in the sky, dark ghosts hovered; by then I was jogging home, holding up my dress and spinting through the light pour. As the faded snow drifted into mush and water, I felt something. It was a different kind of something. Something that seemed unnatural. Behind me, I heard a growl, low and petulant. It sank me as I stopped. I pulled at my brain; telling it to go, march, run, dash, but it refused to listen, refused to understand the danger. And in my mind, something clicked, something bashed, as though it were continous whip lash. A figment entered my mind; a man, dressed devinely, long blond hair, face pale and rigid, body scultpted into perfection, though his eyes were deep red. Although that was not what that made me fear him. What had made me frightful was that around his mouth there was blood. Gushing, red, blood... And as I opened my eyes, casting away the man from my thoughts, the man appeared in front of me in the darkness...


End file.
